Usually, I kept my face neutral and straight and did not talk at all. Sometimes, my oppressed feelings would burst out as tears, ranting, and self harm. I cried that I wanted to die rather than living. One family member would respond: “Then go out and kill yourself." At those moments, I felt I was unable to speak anymore, so I would go to my room or outside to cry and do things to relieve anxiety such as biting my fingers or tearing books. Throughout the years, I became accustomed to the violence around me.
An onlooker looks at a mountain, but the left half of it is gone. It’s not really gone—other folks looking from his location will say that there’s an entire, beautiful mountain there—but the onlooker will insist that he can only see the right half.
This onlooker has Hemispatial Neglect, a disorder characterized by lack of awareness of one side of space. It’s not the same as being blind; someone with Hemispatial Neglect can still have very good vision. It’s not even like you’re closing one eye. In that case, you’ll still be able to see pretty much the same thing as when both your eyes are opened, though the image is slightly shifted.
My writing is inspired by the comfort I feel from reading articles about living with mood disorders. That kind of catharsis is priceless, and the way that information resonates with me means the difference between giving up on life and sticking around to see if I can create a healthier way of being.
I scheduled a doctor's appointment for April 20th. On April 15th I had a stroke. When it happened, my dad was on his way home from the hospital. He had had cataract surgery. I was completely paralyzed on my right side.
I went to Riverside Hospital in Kankakee then transferred to Rush hospital in Chicago where I stayed for an additional two weeks. Eventually I went to a nursing home called Our Lady Of Victory where I was confined to a bed until I was strong enough to sit in a chair. I went to physical and occupational therapy in a wheelchair where I worked very hard. Over time I went from using a wheelchair, to a walker, then a support cane and ultimately a white cane.
People with disabilities, no matter whether they work, or what positions they hold in companies, often are great managers. Why? Because...we have to manage finding different ways of doing things when we’re unable to. Metaphorically, you can throw us into the deep end of the pool, and more likely than not, will be able to swim because we’ve always had to, since we’ve so rarely known anything other than deep water.
Within minutes I have eight hands simultaneously checking my back for rashes, sticking ports in my arm and checking my vitals. They ask me for consent in using a breathing tube (luckily, wasn't used), then in one quick action a nurse tells me to take a deep breath and an epi pen is jammed into my upper thigh. In an instant, an IV of steroids and Benadryl begin to rush into my veins and I feel like Frankenstein reborn.
Being a part of a community of others with disabilities has always been a huge benefit to me since there seems to be an instant empathy and understanding between us, since we either all have disabilities, or we are allies of those with disabilities. Our untold story, I believe, is huge and complex because it encompasses the history of the disability rights movement that so many people outside of it don’t know.
I started learning how to knit and crochet on September 13, 2013 at Blind Service Association.
I really enjoy it very much. I heard about it through one of the instructors at the Guild for the Blind and another lady. I was always interested in learning the craft because my mom and great aunts also knit and crochet.
Over the past year I think we have seen some amazing accomplishments achieved by women. As a woman I encourage and applaud every facet of a women's progression in our world. With that being said, women's health is also very important to me.
There is no place to turn.
I am up against a brick wall; A raging lion is about ready to come out of his cage and eat me up.
My body feels like a truck just ran over it.
My mind is racing like a time bomb that is ready to go off.
I am running like a bull charging out of the pasture.